Mrs. Emma Catharine Embury (1806–1863)

IT is in vain the weary spirit strives

With that which doth consume it;—there is born

A strength from suffering which can laugh to scorn

The stroke of sorrow, even though it rives

Our very heart-strings; but the grief that lives

Forever in the heart, and, day by day,

Wastes the soul’s high-wrought energies away,

And wears the lofty spirit down, and gives

Its own dark hue to life, O who can bear?

Yet, as the black and threatening tempests bring

New fragrance to earth’s flowers, and tints more fair,

So beneath sorrow’s nurture virtues spring.

Youth, health, and hope may fade, but there is left

A soul that trusts in Heaven, though thus of all bereft.